


before the exhale

by elsewherewolf



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Blow Job, Community: pacificrimkink, Father/Son Incest, M/M, Prompt Fill, canon deviation from a lover of canon, chuck loves herc's smell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 11:55:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/939723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elsewherewolf/pseuds/elsewherewolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>written for this prompt: Herc returns home from a trip to find his son asleep on their bed, face buried in one of his shirts (maybe that damned henley ;). Anon gets to decide what happens next.</p>
            </blockquote>





	before the exhale

It's late when Herc finally makes it home; his body aches from being stuck in a cab for the past two hours and he desperately needs to shower. He throws his keys into the dish on the kitchen counter and pulls open the fridge door, its light attracting Max through from wherever he'd been sleeping. "Hey boy," he says, leaning to scratch the dog's head. "Did I wake you?" He grabs a tinny, pulling the ring, and takes a long, satisfying swig. He needs this, just a moment or two to unwind before he goes to bed. "You look after Chuck okay for me?" he asks Max, who looks up at him, drooling.

"Shit," he mutters, his eyes suddenly prickling in a way he knows he can't just put down to exhaustion. He makes his way down the corridor, Max padding along after him, stubby tail wagging. Picking open the top buttons on his shirt to loosen his collar, he pushes open the bedroom door, and the sight that greets him makes him pull up short, Max bumping softly into the back of his legs.

He leans against the doorframe, watching Chuck for a minute. His son's fast asleep, one of Herc's shirts wadded beneath his head, fingers buried in the fabric. It still makes Herc's heart stop sometimes, seeing Chuck at all, because there are days when he can't quite believe that any of this is real. That he has his boy here, alive and with him. He listens to Chuck breathing for a minute - it still feels like a privilege to be able to - before he moves and sits as gently as he can on the edge of the bed. He doesn't even hesitate like he used to, reaches to touch Chuck's back and stroke skin still scarred from the grafts he had to have.

Chuck's slow to stir, nuzzling at the shirt before he finally turns over, heavy eyes looking up at Herc.

"Dad? What time is it?" He's sleepsoft, and Herc glances at the clock on the nightstand.

"Almost two. You okay?" 

"Missed you." Chuck seems to remember the Henley then, reaching for it. "Missed having you here."

"So you didn't do the laundry?" Herc's smile is teasing, but there's a warmth to it that says he missed Chuck like hell too, says he understands. Before he left for Tokyo, Chuck was on him almost every five minutes, nose pressed to his skin, to his shirt, as if trying to ingrain Herc's scent into his senses. 

"Need a bloody degree in physics to use that stupid washer." Chuck strokes the shirt, sitting up. "You smell like airplane food."

"It was a long flight. I was on my way to shower-"

"Don't." Chuck reaches to wrap both arms around him, holds on and inhales deeply, his mouth open against Herc's shirt collar. "I like it."

"I'm pretty sure you're the only one who does, son." As tired as he is, the second Chuck starts kissing his neck, Herc's dick decides it's awake enough for this. He presses his fist into Chuck's nape, jaw going slack as his skin is bitten and nosed at and his clothes are loosened by questing hands.

"New aftershave?" Chuck asks, taking short breaths in as he sniffs at Herc's skin.

"I'm surprised you can still smell that." Herc groans at Chuck's teeth over his chin, through the stubble he left alone because he _knows_. He knows Chuck likes how it feels. "You like it?"

Chuck doesn't answer, opening Herc's mouth under his. Herc reaches to put his half-drained beer on the stand, not breaking the kiss, and flattens his hands out, threading one through Chuck's hair, letting the other fall to the middle of Chuck's back. He can hear his son's breaths, deep and measured like he doesn't want to miss a single thing, needs to catch every single scent that's clinging to Herc.

He remembers how it started, and it was something like this, desperate and needed and thick with relief. Chuck was floating when they found him, parts of his suit melted into his skin, and the smell when Herc got there was more than he could bear, but he'd held his breath and ploughed on. Because his son really fucking needed him to be there, needed his strength and his faith that this would all be okay, somehow. Needed to inhale something other than the smell of his own mangled flesh and the hospital's sterility, needed Herc's familiar scent just to keep breathing.

He'd brought Chuck home after weeks and weeks of grafts, of rehab and healing, and the first thing Chuck did was hug him, tight and fierce and almost desperate, face buried in his neck. That, Herc remembers, was the catalyst for this. He lies back against the pillows when Chuck pushes at him, closes his eyes at the kisses left in the wake of opened buttons, a trail of heat down his chest.

"Dad." Chuck loosens Herc's pants, pulling them off his hips. "Look at me."

Herc does, leaning up on his elbows to watch Chuck nose at his stomach, at the light fuzz below his navel. "Chuck... There's no-"

"I need to. Just bloody enjoy it, alright?"

He watches the top of Chuck's head, thinking he should be the one, he should- "Oh, holy fucking..." Herc swallows, watching Chuck lift his heavy cock, has to fight not to close his eyes again when he sees Chuck's mouth start to open over the head, sinking so slow that it physically _aches._

Chuck groans around him, and Herc can feel his throat constricting, feel his breaths start to come undone, uneven now because Herc's been gone for two weeks and that's _two goddamn weeks_ that Chuck's gone without his taste, the immediacy of having him there to touch, to smell, to reassure.

 _You're beautiful, boy._ Herc doesn't need to say it out loud, all he has to do is keep his eyes open and watch Chuck suck on his dick, watch the play of his tongue, the pleasure in his eyes when he presses his nose into Herc's thigh, breathes in the salt of him. It's as intoxicating to see that as it is to feel Chuck's mouth on him, his hands tight in Herc's skin, far past the point of bruising. Herc doesn't care, he needs all of it the way Chuck needs him, needs every scent that makes him who he is. 

He comes lazily, Chuck's fist around the base of his cock, mouth around the tip and eyes watching him intently, and now he can let himself fall, let his own eyes close, drift blissful and home.

A minute passes in silence, Chuck breathing hard before he moves, stretches out beside Herc. "Shower in the morning," he says, curling into Herc's side. Herc's almost asleep, but he hears it. "Glad you're back, dad."

**Author's Note:**

> slightly edited from the version posted to the community. my first Herc/Chuck ficlet, because I wasn't going to, then I read this prompt and couldn't *not*. Thank you pacificrimkink for totally ruining me.
> 
> eta: yeah, I think I'm going to have to write something to expand on how they got to where they are in this tidbit. I'm done for. Damn Hansens.
> 
> eta 2: The OP made beautiful art to go with this!! Please check it out: http://kaijusizefeels.tumblr.com/post/59349388734/someone-filled-one-of-my-prompts-on-the-kinkmeme


End file.
